Grade 5 Massacre
by EmmaLennyEddie
Summary: Mr. Mufflin has had enough with Fanboy's behavior and decides to teach him a lesson-the harshest one he can think of. Rated T for some swearing and abuse.
1. Chapter 1

"Purple Kid, get up here now," Came Mr. Mufflin's deep, angry voice. The two boys in the back of the class cowered and hugged each other nervously at the sound the distressed voice. It sounded much scarier when a screamer was talking softly.

Fanboy gulped nervously and whispered something to Chum Chum. Chum Chum nodded and skipped to the door, Fanboy watching him forlornly. Mr. Mufflin looked at him intently as the Talking Raccoon finally left.

The man stared back at the young child, who still sat at his desk, and looked back with a defiant gaze. Keeping his temper intact the bet he could, he lifted a finger and motioned Fanboy to sit in the smaller seat located next to his desk.

Fanboy shuffled over apprehensively, gloved hands clasped behind his hunching back, and wearing a nervous half-smile. Mr. Mufflin folded his hands on the desk and slapped the boy with a look so terrible: he actually flinched before sitting down.

"I gave you three chances," Mr. Mufflin growled. He glared at the young child, who averted his eyes. Fanboy rubbed the back of his neck and gave an uneasy laugh. "I-I was just…" He silenced himself when Mr. Mufflin leaned forward.

"I don't want your bullshit excuses," the teacher snarled. "All day, every day, the Purple Kid and the Talking Raccoon make my life completely miserably and wasteful at this school, in this classroom!" Fanboy bit his lip in nervousness. "But no. It isn't him. It's you. You manipulate. You are the one making all of those disruptions!"

"You know the rules of the classroom!" the man went on. "I give you the simplest of tasks: sit down, be quiet, and pay attention to what I am teaching the class! This goes by for everyone, including you! Why can't you follow those rules? …Those _simple_ as hell rules?"

Fanboy shrugged slightly, "I-I don't know. It's just that—well all my friends and I are sitting together, and I like talking to them—"

"But does everyone chatter? NO! Does everyone make a disruption in my class? NO! Does everyone make a complete fool out of me in my own classroom?" he jabbed a finger in Fanboy's face, which flinched in fear. "NO! IT'S ONLY YOU!" For once, the child was speechless.

Mr. Mufflin stood up from his desk and walked behind Fanboy, who was now scared out of his mind and did not dare move. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered. "I-I won't be bad in class anymore."

Mr. Mufflin smiled and leaned down close to Fanboy's ear, who just stared straight ahead. "No. You won't. And I've decided that I've never punished you enough. …Detention? That obviously doesn't work."

Fanboy worked up the courage to tilt his head and look at Mr. Mufflin. "Are you going to make me write sentences on the blackboard?"

Mr. Mufflin smirked. "No."

"O-Oh. Are you going to make me…clean the classroom?"

Once again Mr. Mufflin answered, "No."

"Then what would I do—?" He instantly silenced himself, for his teacher gripped his lanky shoulder harshly, digging his sharp fingernails into the boy. Fanboy sat frozen as Mr. Mufflin growled in his ear, "I have put up with your bullshit for many years and not _once_ have you gotten what you deserve! It's time that you've learned your lesson. It's time that you've felt the pain that you have put me through!"

Fanboy's emerald eyes widened and his jaw went slack. He slowly averted his eyes to the wooden classroom door, wondering if he could make a dash for it. He sat rigid when Mr. Mufflin let go of his shoulder, walked over to the door, and locked it. He smirked at the boy, who had begun to cry.

"D-Don't hurt me!" Fanboy whimpered bringing his knees up to his face to hide his tears. He was beyond terrified now, and Mr. Mufflin was clearly enjoying it. He stepped over to the boy, gripped his ear, and started yanking him to the back of the classroom—The Shunning Cave, all while Fanboy cried, "C-Chum Chum! HELP"

"Shut up," Mr. Mufflin snapped, pinning the boy down to the rocky ground that was littered with bones. Fanboy was too terrified to move, and the man began to search for items in a duffel bag, which he had brought along.

Emerged from the bag were thin ropes, and he used them to tie Fanboy's wrists and legs together. He let the child fall on his side and to continue to weep. Mr. Mufflin was a bit surprised that Fanboy hadn't tried to escape yet. He was always so confident around his friends, but then again, a child is still a child.

The middle-aged teacher was a bit concerned about the volume of Fanboy's crying and slapped two layers of Heavy-Duty duct tape over his mouth. Fanboy began to struggle now, and Mr. Mufflin tightened the ropes until the child's hands and legs went numb, and he lay shivering and terrified.

Mr. Mufflin leaned down to the boy and stared deep into the quivering emerald eyes with his own brown ones. "If you ever scream while I'm punishing you, you're dead. That's it. If anyone hears you whining in your little bitchy voice, I won't hesitate to end your life. And I'm sure your friends wouldn't want that. Got it?" Fanboy nodded quickly and the man grinned.

The first thing that Mr. Mufflin did was remove Fanboy's mask and gloves and shoes. "As you can see," the teacher explained, "I've littered the floor of the Shunning Cave with glass. It's all around us. If ever try to escape, you won't get more than three feet without dying from blood loss. It obviously wouldn't hurt me—I have bolts at the bottom of my shoes, and your shoes protected you." He tossed the converse and other articles of clothing into the darkness. Fanboy lowered his head to hide his face once the mask was removed, and his hands, which had probably never touched anything but the fabric of his gloves, were fragile and curled up into fists.

Mr. Mufflin searched through the duffel bag and Fanboy watched him cautiously. The teacher drew out a thick, metal yardstick. He tossed it from and to hand and waved it in a hypnotic way front of Fanboy's eyes, who watched in nervousness.

"I remember the old days," Mr. Mufflin said, "the days where when a student was punished he was whipped with one of these." He gently waved it in front of Fanboy's face, and his emerald eyes followed it.

Then, without warning, Mr. Mufflin whipped the child's face with it, so hard in fact, that the super-fan fell backwards onto his back, onto broken glass, the smacking sound echoing throughout the darkness. He heard Fanboy's muffled cries and whimpers, his body trembling in pain. "MMPH!"

Mr. Mufflin whipped him again, much harder this time. …And again. …And again. …And again. The yardstick had begun to dig into Fanboy's flesh that would soon turn into scars. The glass dug into his skin and left small cuts.

The strikes to the forehead was the worst, for it was mostly bone against metal, and the amount of force the contact had caused made Fanboy's brain rattle. The yardstick became wet with blood and tears, and Mr. Mufflin tossed it back into the duffel bag after about two minutes of beating. Fanboy continued to sob his muffled sobs, not quite believing what was happening. His innocence was shattered.

Mr. Mufflin gripped Fanboy's chin, wetting his hand with blood in the process, and jerked his head to face him. "Are you going to talk to me?" The child shook his head clear. "Mmph?" "I said ARE YOU TO TALK TO ME?!" Mr. Mufflin shouted in Fanboy's face.

The younger male recoiled and shook his head quickly, his tears making contact with Mr. Mufflin's hand. "Good." The man smiled sadistically, caressing Fanboy's cheek gently. "Good boy."

He then slowly pulled away the duct tape from Fanboy's mouth, causing the boy to flinch. The teacher watched the boy intently, staring deep into his emerald tear-filled eyes. Fanboy sniffed, wanting nothing more to scream for help and escape from this awful man, but he kept his mouth shut as blood and tears trailed down his face. "Have you learned your lesson about talking out of turn?" Fanboy just nodded rather shakily.

"Good. You should never talk in class unless you raise your hand and I call on you. Got it?" Mr. Mufflin asked. Fanboy nodded once more and timidly raised his ungloved hand, at least as far as it could go, seeing that it was tied up. Mr. Mufflin nodded in consent.

Fanboy took a deep breath. He felt so scared, so helpless, but he had to be brave—for Chum Chum. "Mr. Mufflin?" He whispered, scared.

"Yes?"

"H-How… W-Why are you doing this? I-I don't want to—I want to go home!" Fanboy shut his eyes once more as his head throbbed in pain. "I-I'm scared!"

"You should be. You are being punished. And being punished isn't supposed to be a happy experience." Fanboy did not know what to say to that, so he burst into tears and Mr. Mufflin felt a burst of dominance course through him. He had constantly craved power, and prior to now, when Fanboy was winning control of his classroom, oh, he had to bring that boy down in the harshest of ways. And now, the Purple Kid was so helpless and pathetic—not strong at all, just a weak, defenseless child—and he ought to be, in Mr. Mufflin's classroom.

"Now take off your clothes." The teacher ordered. Fanboy's eyes nearly doubled in size as he frantically shook his head from side to side. "NO!" he cried, wriggling his body in effort to move away. "No! You can't—!"

"Shut up. Do you think I'm going to violate you? That would be disgusting," Mr. Mufflin retched in revulsion. He then detached Fanboy's shackles and permitted him to move freely, but only within the bare circle not littered with glass. The child eyed him in terror and buried his beaten face in his knees. Mr. Mufflin waved the yardstick in the air. "Do you want another thrashing?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Then do as I say."

It took awhile, but Hank Mufflin at last managed to get Fanboy to strip himself of his clothing. He assembled himself, shivering in the cold cave air, naked, a furious blush spreading over his face, and bunching his knees so that his teacher couldn't really see anything, but not for long.

"Stand up," Mr. Mufflin ordered. Fanboy cried, begged, and pleaded with his teacher, but finally complied after another slap in the face. Being careful of his wounds, he was soon standing up, and overexposing his body. He had never been so embarrassed in his life and he covered his face with his ungloved hands. "Put your hands at your sides!"

Fanboy bit his lip and blinked back tears, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as Mr. Mufflin circled him with a whip in his hand, whispering insulting names to the child. Every once in a while Hank would whip Fanboy's body, causing him to double over in pain. "…GAHH! STOP IT!" Fanboy cried after the first lash. "STOP IT! STOP HURTING ME!" He tried pleading with Mr. Mufflin, but the man paid no attention. "Shut it! You deserve this!"

Mr. Mufflin whipped his shoulder blades, stomach, collar bone, the back of his thighs, and even his face, leaving long, bloody scratches to trail over his body.

Soon, Fanboy had collapsed from the pain, face-down on the rocky surface of the Shunning Cave, and yet Mr. Mufflin would not cease to beat him. "S-Stop it Mr. Mufflin…S-Stop…" Fanboy moaned, almost inaudibly.

Deep, angry slashes now covered Fanboy from head to toe, but Hank was careful about hitting places where the child's costume wouldn't cover up the evidence: some of his forearms, and the lower half of his face. Everywhere else was attacked without mercy.

The wounds that crawled all over Fanboy's body looked like thin but abundant snakes—red, bloody ones, and he had never felt so mortified. He sobbed quietly, curling up into a little ball, even though moving felt like fire was engulfing his body.

Mr. Mufflin finally stopped, tossing the whip aside and leaned down to the boy's shivering form. "Every day you have humiliated me, you have mocked me, but you were too stupid to even realize what you were doing was hurtful. You have learned what it looks like, what it _feels_ like to be humiliated." Fanboy did not answer and simply continued to moan in pain.

Mr. Mufflin yanked the boy to a sitting position and situated the shackles over his wrists and ankles, not even bothering to put Fanboy's clothes back on him. "The blood will only seep through," Hank explained, tossing the costume into the darkness, along with Fanboy's shoes, gloves, and mask.

He fished around in the duffel bag and pulled out torn pieces of paper. He tossed them all to Fanboy. "Read them," he ordered. The child looked up at him in surprise. Why, that was it? He just wanted him to read letters? Fanboy was confused, but looked at the notes in confidence.

Said self-assurance began to diminish as he realized what the papers were about. Hate letters. They were all hate letters addressed to him. That were meant to be passed to him in class, but Mr. Mufflin had caught the people passing the notes, and therefore Fanboy had never read any of them. Now he wished that he never… Just hate notes. There were a couple from Francine, long letters they were, telling him how much people hated him, how annoying he was, how she wished she had never met him. There were some from Lupe and Yo. There were a _lot_ from Kyle. There were even a few from Cheech and Chris, and even sweet Nancy.

Fanboy gently set the notes down after reading about two of them, and he gently pushed them towards Mr. Mufflin with his foot.

"No!" Mr. Mufflin yelled, picking up the scattered pieces of paper. "You read all of them! All of them!" He shoved the notes back into Fanboy's arms.

The young boy stared at the notes and decided the best thing to do would be to pretend to read them. After all, Mr. Mufflin could not read his thoughts.

"Oh, and don't even think about pretending to read them! I'm going to ask you everything about what your classmates said about you, so you better memorize them. And if you answer wrong, oh, you're going to find your pathetic costume." The teacher motioned a hand out to the darkness, the floor covered with broken glass. Somewhere, on the floor of glass shards were his clothes.

Fanboy felt more tears stream down his beaten face, stinging the wounds as he continued to read the notes. One after one after one… Mr. Mufflin watched the boy's reactions, loving it when he crumbled down in tears when an insult from the notes lashed out at him.

Finally, Fanboy finished the last one. "D-Done," he choked out, pushing the letters back to Mr. Mufflin, who grinned sadistically at the broken child. He picked up the notes and folded them carefully, and set him back in his bag.

"Alright it's question time!" Hank announced, clasping his hands together. "What did Suck-up say to you?"

Fanboy just stared at him blankly for a few seconds. "Y-Y-You mean K-Kyle?" the child's voice trembled. "I-I…" He stared at the ground. "H-He told me to go… to go…"

Mr. Mufflin waited. "To go…?"

Fanboy sniffed and looked away. "…told me to go and k-k-kill myself…." He muttered, not once meeting his teacher's eyes. He didn't want to know these things; he didn't want to know what his classmates hated about him most. He shouldn't even be worrying about things like that! Not when he was trapped, naked, and with cuts and bruises aligning his body!

"Good, now what did Nancy say?"

Oh, he couldn't do this. His heart clenched, and more tears spilled from his eyes. He had to stop crying! He had to be brave for Chum Chum! "S-She… she just said she didn't like me," Fanboy answered rather quickly, and bit his lip.

"EER! Incorrect! I think she said much more detailed things to you!" Mr. Mufflin declared, grinning. When Fanboy refused to answer, he ordered him to stand up once more. "Listen up. The most important thing in a classroom that a student has to abide by, are the rules. You had to follow the rules, and no harm would have come to you. You didn't follow my rules of the activity, and now you must pay the price." Fanboy shook with fear as the man advanced towards him and removed his shackles once more, and gave him a push into the darkness.

Fanboy gave a little yelp as the man pushed him from behind, and he flailed his arms to support himself as he fell forward to the ground. The first thing the child felt after falling were broken shards of glass digging into his body. He let out a screech, and Mr. Mufflin said, "Whoops! I forgot the duct tape." He marched over to the withering boy, the glass crunching under his shoes, and slapped on three layers of the tape onto Fanboy's mouth, and the only sounds coming from the boy now were barely audible whimpers and moans of pain.

Mr. Mufflin gripped the boy's arm and yanked him up, Fanboy letting out muffled screeches as the shards stuck to him. The teacher gave his student a gentle push into the darkness and Fanboy began to wander through the gloom, every step feeling like he was walking on knives. He stopped for a moment to try and brush the shards away, but they wouldn't budge, and Fanboy wondered if Mr. Mufflin had glued the glass to the cave's floor. They broke under his weight, and pieces stuck to his ankles. He began to feel light headed, and Fanboy wondered if he were going to pass out from shock or blood loss.

After a few minutes of unbearable pain, Fanboy finally managed to find his costume and shoes. …Wait, his SHOES…? _"I can escape now!"_ he thought excitedly. Although he couldn't see, Fanboy slowly but surely managed to clothe himself, and put his shoes back on. The blood soaked through the fabric, but he didn't care. His feet were hurting unbearably in his shoes, and he could feel the blood leaking out of his body. Turning around, he saw the little sliver of light in the distance, which meant the exit of the cave.

But then…

"Purple Kid…" a voice whispered behind him. A hand gripped his shoulder, and once again, Fanboy froze in fear. "I see you've found your things. Congratulations." The child felt a sharp jab from behind. "Have you learned to follow MY rules?"

"Mmph…" Mr. Mufflin yanked the duct tape from Fanboy's mouth and gripped his chin, turning it to face him. "I-I understand!" Fanboy squeaked. "I-I do!"

"I don't believe so," Mr. Mufflin growled, "I don't believe you do." He leaned closer until the boy could feel his teacher's breath on his face. In the darkness, he could still make out a hazy outline of Mr. Mufflin. "I think this all needs to be hammered into you, or you'll never learn."

Fanboy gasped. "No! Mr. Mufflin, please! I'll be good! I'll be good! I promise!" He began to shake and cry as the thought of the man torturing him more entered his mind.

"Shut up!" Fanboy earned another slap to the face. "Will you speak in my class? Huh? WILL YOU?!" he yelled when the child did not answer right away.

"N-No! No! I won't!" Fanboy cried.

"Good!" Mr. Mufflin smirked. "Will you humiliate me in front of my students?" He tightened his grip on the boy's arms and moved so close to Fanboy's face that their noses were touching.

Fanboy shook his head, though it hurt to move at all. "N-No," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry…" he was beginning to breathe abnormally heavy, his chest heaving as the pain worsened, and extreme paranoia overtook his mind.

"Good," Mr. Mufflin grinned, and asked, "Will you follow my rules; every single one of them?" Fanboy was beginning to hyperventilate. "…Y-YES! P-Please, I'll d-d-o… e-e-everything… y-you say!" he gasped. "J-J-Just…" he was starting to lose consciousness from fear. "P-Please… let… me go… h-h-home!" He eyes fluttered and his jaw went slack. Slowly, he slipped away and fainted in Mr. Mufflin's arms.

The teacher decided, finally, that that was enough, convinced that Fanboy had finally learned his lesson. He was confident that the child would be as good as gold in his class from now on. He gathered the young male up in his arms and carried him out of the Shunning Cave, squinting in the classroom's fluorescent lights. He picked up his duffel bag on the way out and undressed the boy once more, and began to tend to Fanboy's wounds, which cause the child to awaken.

He let out small whimpers and abrupt shrieks as the man poured rubbing alcohol over the bloody, multiple, thin scratches the whip, yardstick and the broken shards of glass had sliced into his flesh. He wrapped gauze around the deepest cuts, on his shoulder blades, thighs, and collarbone.

After Mr. Mufflin scrubbed all the blood from Fanboy's costume and shoes, he then leaned over the boy with a sinister stare on his hard-set face. "Listen to me, Purple Kid, and you listen to me good." Fanboy looked up at him through teary eyes. "I'm going to let you go." A wave of relief washed over the super-fan's mind. He wasn't going to die, and that's all that mattered to him. "This will remain undisclosed, understand? This is a secret tactic to modify your behavior. If you tell anybody about this, I will drag you back to the Shunning Cave, and I will exterminate you in the slowest doable method, along with the Talking Raccoon." Fanboy's eyes widened, clearly petrified.

"All you need to do is listen, keep quiet, and follow my rules, and no harm will come to you or your friend. Understand?"

"O-Okay Mr. Mufflin…. I-I'm sorry," Fanboy answered, averting his eyes from the dominating male. "I-I'll be good."

Mr. Mufflin was satisfied with Fanboy's answer.

* * *

><p>To continue or not continue?<p>

That is the question.


	2. Chapter 2

Fanboy stumbled out of his classroom; hot, salty tears brimming his eyes as he took each of his steps carefully and gingerly. As he shut the door behind him, he felt his body physically twitch from both pain and apprehension. Within terror, he could still mentally feel every cut, every slice, and every note that both physically and psychologically scarred him. One tear escaped and slid from his eye, which stung the tiny, accidental exposed cut on his reddened cheek. He quickly wiped it away with his violet-gloved hand, lest someone saw it.

Was this a dream? Everything that had transpired appeared too unreal to be in concert with reality. This had to be some sort of nightmare! He had heard of teachers abusing their students, or just children in general on the news, but by no means had he thought that that would to him! That was the reason why it all seemed so erroneous.

His bottom lip trembled as he trudged through the deserted halls, and he bit it, desperately trying to contain his sobs which crept up his throat. His fragile arms wrapped around his torso, clutching the thin fabric that was spotted with nearly invisible droplets of scarlet.

Those teachers were sent to jail, right? And then they would never hurt their children again, correct?

"But this is different," Fanboy whispered to himself, "Because I'm protecting my best friend, and Mr. Mufflin promised he wouldn't hurt us if I don't tell anyone. So I won't!" He lifted his head, suddenly confident. "Yeah! If I don't tell anyone and just behave in class, then nothing bad will happen!" He nodded his head rather shakily, twiddling his fingers in haste. The tears were filling his eyes again, and he looked over his shoulder and stared down the dark hallway with his blurred vision. Would his teacher follow him? Probably not, but Fanboy ran towards the exit anyway, even if the cuts from the glass on his feet was agonizing.

He slammed the wooden double-doors open and stepped outside in the bright sunlight which caused him to squint. He gingerly stepped down the school steps to Chum Chum, who was waiting expectantly.

"There you are Fanboy," Chum Chum laughed excitedly. He jumped up and took the older one's hand in his own, unknowingly causing the boy to wince at the contact. "Where were you? You were gone for quite a while!" He did notice Fanboy's grim expression and immediately confronted it before the older boy had a chance to speak. "Hey, are you okay? What did Mr. Mufflin say?"

A flicker of anxiety shot through Fanboy's mind, and he tensed at the recollection of his teacher's words. _If you tell anybody about this, I will drag you back to the Shunning Cave, and I will exterminate you in the slowest doable method, along with the Talking Raccoon._"

I can't tell him," Fanboy thought to himself, tensing up in extreme fear and determination. "I have to protect him. I have to protect my buddy. Think of an excuse! Excuses! EXCUSES!"

"Fanboy? Oh, Fanboy? What did Mr. Mufflin say?" the little boy asked worryingly, gently tugging on his older friend's lanky arm, causing him to wince in pain once again. The other child noticed, and he squinted. "Huh. Is your arm okay?

"O-Oh! It's okay! U-Um, he made me write a hundred sentences on the board, and I suppose my arm is a little sore from the perpendicular angle it had to be in!" Fanboy explained, laughing nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free arm.

"Oh, okay! Come on, let's go home! Maybe we can play some videogames once we get there!" Chum Chum said eagerly, skipping ahead while his best friend limped behind, unnoticed. As they walked—and limped—home, Fanboy pondered long and hard regarding what had happened, and what his teacher said specifically.

"_All you need to do is listen, keep quiet, and follow my rules, and no harm will come to you or your friend. Understand?" _

So not only did Fanboy have to keep quiet but he also had to follow the class rules, ALL of the class rules. He had too. His, and most important, Chum Chum's life was on the line. "Chum Chum?" He asked faintly, tentatively taking his steps.

"Yeah?" the other boy replied cheerfully, oblivious to the mess behind him as he skipped on.

"What do we have for homework?" Fanboy asked, readjusting his violet cowl in the process, but then discovering something dreadful. Oh Heavens! He could feel the crimson start leaking out from under the fabric! He was grateful that it was water-proof, therefore blood-proof, but instead of containing the blood on the inside, it simply slid out. He slightly whimpered and he began to sweat in nervousness. He couldn't let anyone find out.

"Homework? We have Math on page 207, all numbers. Why? You haven't bothered with homework before!" Chum Chum slowed a bit so Fanboy could catch up to him and he looked up at his hero with wide, curious eyes.

"I-I just think it'll do me good, all right?" He answered, his eyes gazing off in a different direction. "J-just because!"

That was NOT a clear answer! Chum Chum frowned with puzzlement, but let it go, "All right." Fanboy grimaced when Chum Chum looked away. Ugh. Homework! To him, it was such a waste of time. However, it was worth it to protect his best friend!

A few hours later…

Fanboy hastily scanned his homework for the fifth time, making sure that all the answers were correct. He couldn't risk getting one wrong. What if Mr. Mufflin's expectations were higher than high? Perfect, for all he knew. He was filled to the brim with anxiety now, mind filled with horrifying images of what Mr. Mufflin could do, his heart always beating faster than normal, his breathing raspy and quick. Chum Chum noticed easily, looking up from his own math paper.

"Are you sure your okay?" he asked, concerned, placing a hand on Fanboy's shoulder. His best friend was so deep in concentration that he jumped and let out a slight squeak at the contact. Chum Chum quickly withdrew his hand and stared at the older male in concern. "Fanboy… You've been awfully jumpy today! I'm worried about you!"

There were a few moments of silence. "Is there something you're not telling me?" When Fanboy refrained answering, Chum Chum said, "You can tell me what's going on. I'm your best friend! I promise I won't laugh! Please? I just wanna help!" he pleaded as the other boy shook slightly.

The only response he received was, "I-I'm taking a shower, and then maybe I can play videogames with you," Fanboy mumbled, carefully hopping down from the wooden chair and began hobbling up the stairs that led to the bathroom. Chum Chum observed him carefully. What was up with him? He was acting so strange, but why? He was acting all right until… Chum Chum's eyes widened. …Until Mr. Mufflin forced him to stay after class. Fanboy obviously wasn't telling the truth. Writing sentences would cause a person to completely lose his personality!

With this mind, Chum Chum sprinted after his best friend. When he at last arrived at the top of the stairs, he heard the shower water running, and quietly crept near the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, so that made it easy for the sidekick to see and hear what was going on.

He heard Fanboy undressing and saw him toss his costume aside on the wooden floor. He covered his eyes however, when Fanboy limped past the door to enter his shower. Then out of nowhere, Chum Chum heard Fanboy shriek in pain. He burst in and scrambled over to his friend's shower, the shower curtain blocking his view. "Fanboy? Fanboy! Are you okay?" He cried out.

In the meantime, Fanboy was literally biting his fist to keep his strangled cries in, collapsed on the floor of the half-filled tub. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears sliding down his temporarily unmasked face. The warm water came into contact with his multiple wounds, which was the most agonizing thing he had felt.

"I-I'm okay!" he gasped out. "I-I just hit my head!" He couldn't believe the horrible position he was in. He and his friend's lives were on the line, and the only thing that kept his secret from being exposed was a flimsy shower curtain. His bruised knees knocked together from nervousness and he impatiently waited for his friend's reply. _Don't move the shower curtain… Don't move the shower curtain… Don't move the shower curtain…!_

"No you didn't."

"W-What?" He squeaked. "What do you mean I didn't? Don't presume telling me what happened and what didn't, when you didn't even see it happen!"

"I didn't hear a thud," Chum Chum stated, raising his eyebrow in deep suspicion. "Don't lie to me, Fanboy."

Water trickled down Fanboy's abused face and body, and he watched the shower curtain carefully with paranoia. "Look, I need my privacy, so can you please just—!"

**Whoosh!**

The abrupt movement almost caused Fanboy to fall backwards from surprise, but instead he gasped and attempted to cover himself with his hands. There stood Chum Chum, the shower curtain in his gloved hand, yanked aside, a profound blush on his face that soon paled to a ghost white. "F-Fanboy!" Chum Chum whispered, clearly in shock as he inspected and took in all of Fanboy's injuries. All the deep, angry red slashes covered his best friend's naked body from head to toe, the deep black and blue bruises that claimed his arm, lower legs, and parts of his face that was hidden by his violet mask. "W-What happened?" He reached out a hand to touch gently Fanboy's terrified and bruised-from-multiple-beatings face.

"NOTHING!" Fanboy shouted, his face reddening intensely as he scooted as far away as he could from the sidekick, causing the water to slosh around edges of the tub. When he managed to scoot to a corner of the tub, he covered his face with his ungloved hands as the tears finally fell. "N-Nothing happened!" He sobbed with anxiety and fear shooting though him, clouding his mind. It was over. His secret was revealed! As a result, they were dead. They were so dead. Mr. Mufflin was going to kill them!

Wait, no. Chum Chum didn't know who did it! As long as he didn't know, the both of them were safe.

What made Fanboy feel so helpless was that if they DID fall into Mr. Mufflin's wrath, he couldn't do anything about it! Being tied up until his legs and arms went numb, and then beaten senseless were things he could not protect Chum Chum from if Mr. Mufflin found out.

The boy heard a splash and felt arms wrap around his bare torso, and a face nuzzle his chest that first stung but then soothed his wounds. Gripping the edges of the bathtub to keep from slipping; his inhales and exhales became far too short and quick, emerald eyes rolling to the back of his head. He was going to faint… Everything was dimming, and he could feel his body sinking. "Just let me die now…" he thought.

"Fanboy… It's okay… It's okay… Who did this to you?" Chum Chum asked, staring up at his best friend's face, not caring if he was sopping wet. That did it. A bell of panic rang in Fanboy's mind. OH NO! He was onto him!

The super-fan burst out sobbing, covering his face with his hands. "No!" he cried. "N-Nothing happened! Please, let it go!"

The sidekick looked up at his hero in surprise. He had never sounded so desperate and so scared in his life. There was a long silence; the only audible noises were Fanboy's whimpering, and the water falling onto the children like a waterfall. For Chum Chum, this was a first. Not just the injuries, but the fact that Fanboy looked petrified. He looked at his best friend's wounds and slowly traced a finger over one of the cuts on the male's arm.

"Don't touch it!" Fanboy shrieked, yanking his forearm away and cradling it with his other just-as-damaged arm. "It hurts!"

Chum Chum withdrew his hand and glared at the older boy. "Why won't you tell me what happened? Those don't look accidental! Not to mention that those also look fresh…" He pointed out, and then in a much softer tone continued with, "Why don't you want to tell me?"

Fanboy slowly shook his head from side to side. "I-I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Chum Chum placed his hand on the one place where Fanboy wasn't abused: his cheek—the only place not hidden by the cowl. "I'm your best friend, so you can trust me Fanboy! Don't be scared…"

"I-I-I'm not scared! I-I…" Fanboy's mind went cloudy and Chum Chum's chocolate eyes practically bore into his emerald ones. He gently removed his sidekick's hand. "I… I can't tell you…" he whispered, wrapping his shaky arms around his best friend, pulling him close. "It's t-to protect you." He pulled back and said, "O-Okay?"

"No!" Chum Chum removed himself from Fanboy's arms and stared at him dead in the eye once more. "It isn't okay! Wait… What do you mean it's to protect me?" Fanboy began to sputter, and he covered his face with his hands again. He blew it again. This time, his finger nails dug into some of the cuts on his temples, which caused them to reopen, and soon, blood was again trickling down his face. Before long, the water around him turned a rusty red color.

Studying him carefully, Chum Chum finally sighed and said, "Alright, why don't we talk about it after you wash?" Fanboy didn't answer, and Chum Chum exited the bathroom.

A Little Later…

They never had that talk. Fanboy scrambled into bed as soon as he finished his shower, refusing to talking to his best friend unless it was about something unrelated to his scars. When Chum Chum entered the atmosphere, Fanboy covered his face with a pillow, hardly moving.

The younger boy looked at him. "Fanboy?" Being so young, Chum Chum didn't understand the gravity of the situation at hand. The thought that Mr. Mufflin inflicted the injuries on his best friend had never crossed his mind. Why would it? Their teacher seemed so lifeless and boring! Yuck! So to sum it up, Mr. Mufflin hurting Fanboy didn't seem like a palpable option. "Did you get into a fight?" He asked curiously. But that did not seem likely either.

Fanboy refused to answer. "It's to protect Chum Chum," he thought. "Nothing bad will happen as long as I don't say anything." He turned on his side, away from the opposite bed and thought some more. "Besides, I did my homework, and Mr. Mufflin said I had to follow… Yeah, that's following the rules. Yeah… I can't talk in class… And…" Was there one last rule? What was it again? "Heh," Fanboy chuckled weakly. "He was right. He didn't completely hammer the rules into me. Well, being good shouldn't be too hard anyway. I AM a superhero, so being good should be a walk in the park! ... Right?" He shivered, and clutched the blankets tighter, silently letting the tears he had struggled to contain, fall free.

Walking to school had never been so…suspenseful for Fanboy. He clenched his homework paper tightly in one hand, determined not to lose it. Chum Chum strolled beside him, still pondering over the source of the terrible, abundant wounds. Who had done it? He noticed Fanboy's willpower to shut it out, never mentioning it, never addressing it. If moving in a certain way hurt him, he would clench his teeth and hold in his cries. His limp had lessened. Because of that, Chum Chum nearly overlooked the state of affairs.

"Fanboy," Chum Chum muttered as they entered their classroom, "Are you feeling better this morning?" The boy in question smiled and nodded, but for some reason seemed very rigid as they passed by the teacher's desk.

"Keep walking and don't look!" Fanboy ordered himself as he stiffly approached, but his emerald flickered upward to meet Mr. Mufflin's nonetheless. It was like a flash of terror spreading throughout Fanboy's mind as the knowledge of secrets exchanged between the two. Mr. Mufflin's eyes clearly asked him, "Did you follow my instructions? Will you be good?" The masked child gave a tiny nod in response. It only lasted for a moment, and then Fanboy swiftly walked over to his desk in the back corner of the classroom, Chum Chum following him, confused more than ever.

The rest of the day was quite different. Not for just for Fanboy and Chum Chum in general, but for the entire class, including Mr. Mufflin. It was, of course, much quieter, and there was a decrease of giggling and passing notes in the rear. Kyle noticed the alteration instantaneously. Being the student whom was affected by the other's misbehavior, any upgrade was become aware of right away.

He was curious to how this was so. The Brit turned around in his seat to face the super-fan and whispered, "Well, it is about time you modified your behavior! I say, you haven't talked one bit, have you? Have you not?" He was extremely flabbergasted when he received no response. Fanboy merely looked away, his hands folded in his lap.

He needed to be good, a good student. And that meant he had to listen to his teacher and ignore his classmates if they addressed him. He needed to.

"Huh…" Kyle squinted at his classmate. "Continue to do that, and Mr. Mufflin may essentially begin to admire you!" For a second time, the wizard obtained no reply, so he shrugged and twisted around to face forward. Something was off, and while he was enjoying the silence, there was a whisper of dread in the air. "But that cannot be… The only thing Fanboy is doing is…nothing! So why am I puzzled? Perhaps it is because of his exceptional work of a student!" He chuckled quietly.

Chum Chum was more confused than ever. Whenever he attempted to speak to his best friend, he wouldn't receive so much as a glance, much less a spoken reply. Fanboy was deliberately ignoring him…o-on purpose. But why? Was he mad at him? Was that why he was ignoring him?

"Fanboy?" he whispered, his hand covering his mouth from Mr. Mufflin's sight as he turned to face the other male he was addressing. "You need to tell me what's going on. I can't just sit here and let—"

"HEY! STOP TALKING!" The angry shout erupted from the teacher's mouth as a warning. Chum Chum froze and eyed Fanboy, who seemed to be more tense than usual, but not only that; he seemed almost…scared? What on Earth was going on? Usually, Fanboy would just giggle under his breath or something, but now… What was up with his buddy? Well, he didn't know that, but he did know one thing for sure: he was going to get to the bottom of it.

….

Ugh. So sorry about the sluggishly slow update. I've just been so busy, and I'm typing this story on a spare computer that has no Internet source at my house! It can only connect to Wi-Fi at my school, so technically, I'm outside la clase de Espanol… for the duration of the summer. LOL. No, I didn't fail; this is just the only place I have connection.


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